I woke slowly, the morning sunlight filtering softly through the blinds of the bedroom. The lingering warmth of Luther's body beside me and the satisfying ache of my muscles served as a delightful, clear reminder of the promise he had fulfilled.
I turned my head to see him propped up on one elbow, already awake and watching me. He wasn't in a suit, but rather a simple, perfectly fitted gray t-shirt—casual, yet still looking intensely powerful.
“Good morning, culinary prodigy,” he murmured, his voice husky from sleep. He reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from my forehead.
“Good morning,” I replied, stretching luxuriously. “Did I meet the required standards for a reward?”
He chuckled, a low, rich sound. “You exceeded them. I might need to challenge you to master a new dish eve
